


Between The Lines

by YoshiSkittlez



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 05:39:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2801591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoshiSkittlez/pseuds/YoshiSkittlez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I know. Magic always comes with a price. But if Mother's death taught me anything, it's that sometimes... a hero has to sacrifice everything to save the people they love. And I will do whatever I can to save our land and I can be a hero just like mother and if that means summoning Rumpelstiltskin, then so be it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between The Lines

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any characters, ideas, actors, or anything to do with Once Upon a Time. If I did, I would be writing for them, or more importantly, giving myself a role to be able to kiss on Robert Carlyle and have it be perfectly acceptable :)
> 
> In all seriousness...I have nothing but the deepest respect for Emilie de Ravin and Robert Carlyle and am in no way trying to tarnish their image with this fic, this is solely for entertainment purposes. Thank you.
> 
> XXX
> 
> Welcome fellow Oncer's! I thought that during my time in putting together Book 2 of my epic 'what if' series without Emma's existence, I would take a crack at my own Rumbelle story in the meantime. They are my favorite pairing after all. Anyway, the inspiration behind this story is that I've read quite a few Rumbelle fics on here, but not once have I seen one that explained what happened during the time that we see off screen.
> 
> For example... We've all seen 'Skin Deep' (and hell, if you're like me you've probably memorized it!) and we've all tortured ourselves with watching 'Lacey' over and over for the small snippet of time that happened with (a very different) Robin Hood when Belle was still at The Dark Castle. But what I want to know is what else happened in between those times?
> 
> Thanks to 'Family Business' we now know that it was Belle's idea to summon Rumpelstiltskin to save their Kingdom from the Ogre Wars, and going back to 'Skin Deep' we know that Rumpelstiltskin received a message but what we don't know is by who. Did Maurice get over his fears and write to The Dark One himself? Or did Belle go behind her father's back and write to him, telling Maurice only after the letter had already been sent?
> 
> Well this is one question out of many that I will be answering (it may be my opinion, but in my years of theater and character study I feel that I have a good enough grasp on the characters and their behaviors to keep this as canon as I possibly can) so get settled in, grab some popcorn (and possibly some tissues) and let's begin…
> 
> Between the Lines

_"The war is not going well. But you need not worry of such things, we have soldiers to fight."_

_"Those soldiers don't stand a chance! They'll only slow down the Ogres' advance! I- We need someone who can stop them once and for all!"_

_"And who would that be?"_

_"On my journey... I did some reading and... well... there's a wizard. A powerful, powerful wizard who may just help us. His name is-"_

_"I know his name! And I dare not speak it! Trust me Belle, if we do-"_

_"I know. Magic always comes with a price. But if Mother's death taught me anything, it's that sometimes... a hero has to sacrifice everything to save the people they love. And I will do whatever I can to save our land and I can be a hero just like mother and if that means summoning Rumpelstiltskin, then so be it."_

**XXX**

Agitated, the high princess of Avonlea crumpled up another piece of parchment paper and tossed it across the room in the overflowing waste bin.

_How does one even address Rumpelstiltskin in something like this?_ She thought to herself as she tucked a stray strand of her chestnut brown hair back behind her ear. _Books can be so unclear sometimes..._

With a light huff, she reached across the large pile of books that had been accumulating on her desk over the last few days and picked up the one on top, pulling it in front of her and opening it to the page bookmarked with a light blue silk ribbon. The pages were thin and yellowed, curling up at the corners from their age but it somehow weathered the wear and tear of Belle's reading it over and over from the time she had picked it up in Arendelle three days ago.

It was by pure chance she happened upon this book before returning home. As she waited patiently at the harbor for her ship back to Avonlea, a small stall of ancient books caught her attention at the market and she couldn't help but to take a look. The woman who had sold it to her was pleasant enough, as seemed to be everyone else she came across in Arendelle. She would have liked to go back and visit this wonderful land again if it hadn't created such a sense of overpowering guilt in her heart. She was only too eager to leave and return home.

It seemed wherever she went, tragedy followed. It had only been a week since her mother's passing and although Belle believed that the trip to the Rock Trolls would have helped to dull the pain (both being away from Avonlea and finding out what had happened during her blackout) it only seemed to make that hole in her heart even bigger, more raw with now the fate of another person's life on her conscious. Anna had proved to be a true friend, offering to take her to the Rock Trolls when no one else could. She was such a sweet girl... if only she had taken better care of that rock... if only she could have gotten to Anna in time...

It was unclear if the bouncy, pig-tailed girl was dead. It _was_ possible to survive a fall from that height, Belle had fallen from enough library ladders grasping for an unreachable book to know that for herself. But with Anna now gone; taken by her own aunt with some sort of ice magic, it was impossible to know the fate of her friend for sure, and that bugged Belle more than anything else.

Pulling herself from her thoughts, Belle forced her eyes to read over the same text she had memorized long ago. She had read it twice on her journey home, and five times more since she had arrived home two days ago. The passage on Rumpelstiltskin was very short and very vague, alluding only the true name of The Dark One which, supposedly was a start as every other book she had been able to read up on him in the meantime only mentioned him as The Dark One, The Dealmaker, The Trickster, The Liar...the list of names went on.

No book, however, despite her extensive search in her father's library, could shine any light on the matter of how one _summons_ Rumpelstiltskin. Nor did any book tell of where he lived or of any solid proof that he truly existed for that matter. For all Belle knew, he was nothing but a story that parents told their children to, in hopes that they could at least scare them into behaving. She couldn't afford to think like that though; she _needed_ Rumpelstiltskin, more than anything right now.

There was a thundering roar that could be heard in the distance, causing Belle to look up from the book and out her window. She was unable to see the battle that was raging on leagues away but she didn't have to see it to know that it was going badly. News reached her father's castle daily with reports that were less than pleasant to hear. As much as she tried to forget it, she had seen the power of an Ogre before, and she knew what they were capable of. The sky was painted red with the blood of her father's soldiers; she knew what she was talking about when she told her father that they didn't stand a chance. Time was running out, they needed Rumpelstiltskin, despite what her father said against the matter.

He had been less than willing to listen to reason when she had first told him about her idea of summoning Rumpelstiltskin. He was weary of magic and he had every right to be. Magic in this land was less than kind and from his stern response so quickly on the matter, Belle could gather that something tragic had happened in her father's past, something to do with magic or perhaps Rumpelstiltskin himself, but what her father failed to realize is that they had no other choice. She would find a way to summon Rumpelstiltskin. In the case of her father, it was much better to ask for forgiveness than permission. This was her price to pay.

Closing the book rather abruptly as nothing new in the text had revealed itself, Belle coughed and sputtered as a thick cloud of dust flew up from the ancient pages followed by a sneeze. Shaking her head, she placed the book back at the top of the pile and pulled out a clean sheet of parchment.

_To hell with formality. Either he will help us or he won't!_

Belle picked up the feather quill once more and dipped it into the ink well before scrawling out a short message explaining her lands plight. She refused to even re-read the message to herself this time before she folded it up and sealed it tight with her father's wax seal.

Rising from her bedroom writing desk, Belle hurried over to the bay window and threw it open, pleased to find the carrier pigeon she had coaxed earlier had remained there like a little soldier awaiting orders. It seemed everyone in Avonlea was willing to do their part, no matter how small.

She took great care in attaching the letter to the birds leg and scooped up the pigeon into her hands, doing what she could to make eye contact with the animal as if that would somehow help to hammer in the importance of this message, but the bird's head wobbled around like a child's wind-up toy, and the effort went in vain. Finding the feat to be impossible, she sighed and instead spoke out loud to it, as if it were a person.

"Take this to Rumpelstiltskin."

With no sort of acknowledgement from the bird, all Belle could do was suck in a breath as she tossed the two-pound creature up into the air and watch as it took flight into the east. Only then did Belle realize how tired her body had become, having stayed up throughout the entire night to write the letter. The rising sun made it hard to keep track of the small bird, but as stubborn as she was, Belle watched until the bird became nothing but a black dot on the horizon and even after it had vanished from sight, she kept watching... waiting... hoping...

**XXX**

_Rumpelstiltskin,_

_I fear the Kingdom of Avonlea is fighting a losing battle in what I believe to be the second Ogres War. Countless innocents have lost their lives and I humbly turn to you for help. With every moment the Ogres draw closer. We are dying. My father is of noble blood, he will pay you handsomely for your services provided of course you hold up your end of the deal. Please Rumpelstiltskin, won't you help us?_

The letter was left unsigned, but The Dark One didn't care much for names at this current moment. He was in much too foul of a mood to care for _any_ of the letters he found stacked upon his writing desk that evening, and knew before the day was out at least ten more letters of pitiful blubbering would find its way to that stack for him to sift through.

This particular letter, however, seemed to give The Dark One pause as he lifted it back up from the writing desk and read it over a second time. It had to of possibly been the shortest letter he had ever received over the last few centuries, but it was precise and to the point. He couldn't help also but to notice the loopy words strung together neatly that he was able to determine immediately as the penmanship of a young woman, not old as the ink would have smudged and shook upon the parchment. This he only knew from experience.

Avonlea.

Rumpelstiltskin had run the name of the small kingdom through his head at least a couple dozen times already, but found no particular interest in the land, or its residents. There was nothing there for him, no object or favor he needed to reclaim what had been lost to him, and the promise of gold in return for his services was nothing short of laughable. Truly, this foolish girl knew nothing of him.

No, if he were to answer this call he would barter up for something else in return but with nothing there in Avonlea he _needed,_ it all seemed rather pointless. Of course he knew of the nobleman this foolish girl spoke of in the letter, some would even go as far to say Maurice was a king but again, Rumpelstiltskin found that laughable. He was of noble blood, yes, but a king? Hardly.

Avonlea was such a small kingdom, if one could call it that. A land so worthless, so remote from everything else, not even King George or King Midas bothered to fight over whose side of the land it truly rested on to claim for their own. So Maurice was left with a false Kingship, and within the few... brief moments Rumpelstiltskin had spent with the man, he knew the faux King relished every minute of it, as truly as if it were legit.

Setting the letter aside with disinterest amongst the sea of unopened ones, Rumpelstiltskin descended the spiral stone staircase of the tower and shortly found himself in the Dining Hall. With a quick flourish of his right hand, the candelabras lining the cold, stone walls lit to life and with a quick snap of his fingers, a fire began to crackle in the stone hearth to his left. He felt nothing for the cold of his castle, but the flickering lighting and quiet sputters from the fireplace always seemed to bring him some small amount of comfort, able to pull his mind from the present and leave it in a place where he had once been happy.

Pulling out the single leather chair that sat at the head of the polished wooden table, Rumpelstiltskin took a seat and rested his bony elbows onto the table's wooden surface. Steepling his hands together just under his chin, his dead eyes peered over the top of his fingertips at the lone spinning wheel towards the corner of the room.

It was there that just this morning during a rather aggravated spinning session, he had decided to venture to Arendelle himself and see if he couldn't convince the annoying pig-tailed girl to return the Sorcerer's hat to him. He wasn't sure exactly how though, since she had commanded him with the power of his own dagger to not hurt her or her sister, but there were other ways of getting what he wanted without inflicting pain; they just took more time but it seemed he had all the time in the world right now. Regina was being less than cooperative. Though, having such a powerful object in the hands of such a stupid young girl put him on edge. He had to keep track of that hat, no matter what. And so, after adorning his favorite dragon-skinned coat and abandoning the knotted threads of gold on the spinning wheel, he was off to Arendelle without even so much as a plan and a couple strands of golden straw clasped in his hand.

He couldn't have been more surprised to find that all hell had broken loose by the time he had arrived, but the moment his eyes fell upon a familiar face he knew that perhaps... not _all_ was lost after all. Watching Ingrid manipulate the pig-tailed girl into entrapping her own sister inside a magical urn had been most amusing, and upon offering a trade - the urn for the hat - he was sure that he would be getting what he wanted. It seemed, however, that wouldn't be the case and he was forced to return with a memento he hadn't the slightest amount of interest in.

Not even home from Arendelle for fifteen minutes now and his mind was already drifting back to the urn he had stashed away in his vault before going to read over the letters. Now just what the hell was he supposed to do with a temperamental Ice Queen trapped inside a cheap decoration piece until Ingrid came to her senses and traded him back the Sorcerer's hat? His knowledge on the urn was minimal at best, but if it was something Ingrid was so intent on having, he would have to make sure to take a look into it later. Perhaps there could be something more he could pull from The Snow Queen when she finally came around to retrieve it, or better yet, information he could use against her. He would have to check around and see if he had a book on it.

The Dark One would have had quite the expansive collection of books if he had ever gotten around to organizing them. There wasn't even a separate room in which to keep them in, despite the large castle he resided in. It wasn't by any means because there was no room, he just had better things to do than to organize the books into a library; he was able to find what he wanted in his organized chaos, so there was no need.

Instead with every new book he obtained it only added to the piles of books in every room in the castle, unsorted and ungrouped merely collecting dust. Most of these books he had collected over the many passing years in deals as a petty price when they had nothing else he would want. He had no use for those books, but he never came out of a deal without anything to show for it. There _were_ books, though a select few, that he had gone great lengths to have in his possession. Spell books, ancient tomes, anything that could help to increase his knowledge on who and what he was, magic, and how to gain more power. And then of course there was the most recent book he had wriggled out of The Evil Queen's grasp to finish his collection on more... potent poisons that the common person wouldn't normally stumble across. Regina had a hard time parting with it, but her desire for blood lust won out in the end and the deal was made.

His relationship with The Evil Queen was... interesting to say the least. He had known her before she had even been born, courtesy of his precognition which he had learned to be... content with as of late. Then there was also the... ever more interesting relationship he had with her mother who Rumpelstiltskin would rather _not_ think about at the present moment.

He watched Regina grow from afar over the years, pleased as the young, doe-eyed girl blossomed into the true, heartless witch he had every hand in shaping with tight control and when the time was right, The Dark One had taken her under his wing, forming a close - friendship wasn't quite the word - but a close understanding of one another. Carefully disposing of Cora, her mother, only helped Regina become more powerful, much to his approval. She had finally accepted the darkness into her heart and let it control the magic for her.

Yes, Regina was everything he had hoped she would be and more, and with Cora out of the way there was nothing to stop her from getting what she truly wanted. She posed no true threat to him personally or his power, but that wasn't to say she didn't try his patience on more than a few occasions, becoming quite a royal thorn in his side. Especially now as of late when it came to the matters of her step-daughter, Snow White. Regina had finally come to her boiling point and sent her huntsman out for the princess' heart. Of course the man couldn't do it, everyone in the kingdom adored darling Snow, and the stag heart the huntsman had brought back to Regina had only spiked her anger into something exceptionally deadly, letting Rumpelstiltskin know that the games had finally begun.

Going to such great lengths to bring an end to someone's happiness for spilling a secret a handful of years ago seemed a bit... over the top, but if that's what got Regina's blood hot, then so be it. He didn't need his ties so close to Regina anymore, and so he became less interested in her affairs, and more on his own despite her fit-filled protests. He needed that rage that The Queen was slowly letting surface, and so he stopped heeding her calls, forcing Regina to seek out her answers elsewhere. So she began praying on oblivious other kingdoms to get what she wanted, off-handedly starting more than a few wars in between at her brash behavior for the capture of Snow White, now appropriately named the Bandit Princess.

Despite his best efforts to remain _out_ of the royal squabbles with the targeted kingdoms, The Dark One was unceremoniously thrust _back_ into them at the most inconvenient of times. King George had quickly called to him the moment the life of his son, Prince James, was lost. Wherever the king got the idea that The Dark One could raise the dead, Rumpelstiltskin had no idea, but it was amusing to say the least to drag along King George in hope, only to reveal that bringing back the dead was even beyond his powers, but instead he could procure James' twin brother to slay that meddlesome dragon that he may or may not have had a hand in placing in King Midas' kingdom.

It was an easy enough deal to make; a dragon slayer for the Golden Fleece King George had to obtain from King Midas. The two bone-headed kings had been friends for years until King Midas realized he had a dragon problem. Trade was quickly cut off, and King George's kingdom suffered the hardest for it since Regina had also cut off trade with him by his own request, but King George had bit his tongue with the idea that his new son would be able to bring peace to the kingdoms again once his soldiers killed the beast that caused this whole mess and the shepherd would take the glory. Rumpelstiltskin knew it would be more than that, though, as King Midas was eager to marry off his daughter to the bravest man in the kingdom... who better than a false prince-turned-hero? Of course, the shepherd wouldn't settle for anything less than true love, this Rumpelstiltskin knew long ago, and then the deals would really start rolling in...

All these matters and more only seemed to give Rumpelstiltskin a headache, wishing that it could just be as easy as incinerating them all on the spot and doing everything himself. How Maurice and his tiny little kingdom of Avonlea missed being in the crossfire between King George and King Midas' trade problem was beyond him, but now it seemed that Avonlea hadn't gone without its own troubles, as now they were being attacked by Ogres.

Ogres! Really, as if The Dark One could spare ANY more time in ANY of these matters! Maurice and his entire kingdom should just be left to die, save him the headache of being misinterpreted by either of the other kings as 'interfering' in showing favoritism towards one side. No, that little girl and her letter-

_Gods!_

How Rumpelstiltskin's mind had wandered _back_ to that letter he had received from Avonlea not moments ago was beyond him. He had gone to great lengths to forget all about it and yet, here he was, back to square one. It was strange; there was no need for him to ponder on such matters that meant nothing to him. It wouldn't be the first time he let an entire kingdom fall, and he hadn't even blinked an eye in his decision. So what was it about this letter that kept his mind returning to it?

Snarling, knowing that peace would be far from his mind now, the sorcerer magicked the letter back into his hand with a quick flick of the wrist, and read it over again.

Something in the letter intrigued him, enticed him even; that much was clear, otherwise he wouldn't be sitting there in his chair mulling over the letter for a third time. Maybe it was the handwriting, the naiveté behind the words, or perhaps he simply wished to watch the oafeous look on The King's portly face if he had decided to come and help, and force him to tremble at his feet.

Rumpelstiltskin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand and pulled his eyes from the letter, staring blankly at the fire crackling in the hearth. There he went calling Maurice a king again, the same mistake made by so many others time and time again. King Maurice... it didn't even have a nice ring to it! The old man really was a fool.

The girl who had written the letter seemed to at least have enough sense to recognize this herself as she had spoken nothing of her father's crown, only that he was a nobleman... which was strange. Wouldn't a noblewoman jump at the opportunity of waving around her title as princess, despite it not being the technical truth? Titles seemed to be more important than life itself from his observations over the years during his deals with all those greedy royals. It was the very reason the last glimmer of hope for his happiness had been smashed to pieces when Cora had chosen nobility over him. Not that he could blame her really, he was nothing pleasing to look at and had nothing to offer for one so regal. He was a fool for allowing himself to think that she had once truly loved him. An utter fool.

The sound of crumpling parchment reached Rumpelstiltskin's ears, drawing him out of his somber reverie and back to the letter in his hand. He hadn't realized that while he was lost in his own thoughts, his two hands crumpled up the letter until it was almost beyond salvaging. Not that it mattered _too_ much; reading the letter three times in such a short amount of time helped him memorize the contents, but that didn't stop him from laying the parchment down on the table in front of him and attempting to smooth it down to rid the wrinkles he had caused.

A small gust of wind picked up in the chilly autumn air outside, seeping through the cracks of The Dark Castle. It would have gone unnoticed by the master of the castle if it hadn't been for the brief flickering of the candelabras keeping the room lit and the wind wafting a new scent from the letter to his pointed nose. Inhaling the foreign smell deep into his chest and feeling a tickling shiver running down his spine, Rumpelstiltskin had to wonder how it was possible he hadn't noticed this before.

Bringing the letter up to his nose, he sought out the smell again, separating the paper and ink aroma and finding only a faint trace of the brown sugar, vanilla and baked peach combination he could spend the rest of the night breathing in. A guttural growl emitted from his throat, goose bumps raising the tiny hairs on the back of his neck in a way that had nothing to do with the cold within the drafty castle.

There was no question that the intoxicating aroma belonged to the young woman who had written the letter... the little minx. The thought crossed the dark sorcerer's mind of heeding the letter _just_ to breathe in the scent of the girl as payment, since he hadn't a need for anything else the faux king could offer him. Though, he doubted his reputation of The Dark One would be helped in his favor if all he asked for in return was to smell the girl; all magic comes with a price and he had to make sure he drove that point across to Maurice. He had to find something more than just a few moments of his own sick aroma'd pleasure.

The Dark One smiled, his upper lip curling into an amused snarl over his ruined teeth as a deliciously evil idea came to his twisted little mind. He set the letter back down onto the table and used his free hand to wipe his finger along the wooden table, inspecting the pad of his finger of the dust. Keeping his smile, Rumpelstiltskin rubbed his finger and thumb together to dispel of the small mess, his suspicions now confirmed. Had it truly been that long since Zelena had taken her leave?

Rumpelstiltskin folded his hands back into his lap as he relaxed back into his leather chair, letting his eyes flutter closed as he allowed his mind to drift back to his apprentice-turned-caretaker. She was a different sort of crazy, that much was clear, but she had been... necessary. Meeting her nearly a year ago, it was the first time he had doubted his foresight ability. It wasn't very often The Dark One was caught off guard for that very reason, and yet he couldn't have been more surprised to learn that Regina was in fact _not_ Cora's first born as she had allowed him to believe on the better part of two decades.

He had taken Zelena up almost immediately as his apprentice, pleased with the raw power she already held within her and though she showed little control, she showed promise. There was no doubt that Zelena was further along in her training than Regina was. The selfish part of his mind wanted Zelena to be the one to cast the curse; it certainly would have been done a lot sooner than Regina... as he was still waiting on that. But he had to be sure, and that self-served test cost him the only woman who had enjoyed keeping his castle clean and cooking his meals.

Rumpelstiltskin quickly shoved an idea from his mind as soon as it came. He would never admit it to anyone, he hadn't even been able to admit it to himself, but the realization hit his gut harder than he thought possible as he finally began to accept the hard truth. He was lonely. He had always been lonely. Zelena wasn't the best company by any means, as she had found some strange fixation on him (more likely his power than him as a person), but the witch had been someone to talk to, someone to keep his mind from slipping into desolate madness. With her gone now, an emptiness had made itself known in his castle, something he hadn't ever noticed before in his time there. He wouldn't shudder away from the idea of having another caretaker... however this time, he would hold the magic lessons. The women he taught magic to tended to turn on him in one way or another.

So it was decided. He would travel to Avonlea first thing in the morning and pick himself up a new caretaker; the foolish girl who had been able to so callously call on him for help. _She_ would be the one to pay the price, the look on nobleman Maurice's face would be just too delicious to pass up, and as an added bonus, he'd be able to take in that wonderful smell anytime he pleased if it didn't get mixed in with all the other amorous aromas that would fill the castle once she learned how to bake properly for him.

Rumpelstiltskin giggled quietly to himself as he got up from his chair, eager with the idea like a child on the Winter Solstice getting ready to cut down a holiday tree. He grabbed the letter as he passed it by and paced himself over to the fireplace. No, he wouldn't go to Avonlea in the morning, he would go _now_. He wouldn't be able to sleep until this girl was locked tightly in his dungeon where the sound of her cries in being ripped from her home and family would soothe him to sleep...

_What the hell am I thinking?_

It had been such a good idea just a few seconds ago, but as he now braced himself against the stone mantle of the hearth, his mind began to cloud with doubt. The spinner who had been pushed back to the far recesses of his mind had come to front, pushing the demon of The Dark One away with something he could only place as guilt. The demon within, however, didn't scare so easily and locked the spinner back up in his cage to remain dominant in Rumpelstiltskin's mind once more, shunning the guilt and in its wake instead left doubt.

This... girl... she would only prove to be a royal pain in his side for sure. He would have to teach her manners, discipline, teach her to fear him. The idea was starting to lose more and more of its merit the more he thought on it and he had to pause to ask himself if he had the time to shape yet another woman to his particular needs. Regina had been utterly exhausting, Zelena a waste of time... he expected no less of this noblewoman.

He groaned as he rubbed his tired eyes and looked down upon the letter held in his hand; his lip twitching in disgust as the last few centuries suddenly wore down on him, reminding him of his age. No, it was a bad idea. He didn't need a caretaker... at least not this petty girl that would be more trouble than she was worth. Perhaps he would travel to The Frontlands instead and find a woman already shaped to his needs, one who was used to working for a master...

The scent of baked peaches, vanilla and brown sugar infiltrated his heightened senses once more, causing the sorcerer to feel a sudden tightness in his chest, finding that he utterly craved the scent. Rumpelstiltskin lowered his head in defeat, his hand tightening around the letter until it was crumpled up into a tight ball and threw it into the fire without hesitation. He watched the letter burn into nothing but ash, ridding himself finally of the pesky girl. His hand, now being free from the letter, remained in a tight fist however, his knuckles turning an ashen grey from the loss of blood as he silently cursed himself for lack of being able to make up his mind, already regretting burning the letter.

_Well... no harm in seeing what Maurice would be willing to part with I suppose..._ He thought to himself, justifying the overpowering urge to travel to Avonlea that very moment despite the sun starting to sink below the horizon. His mind refused to even turn back to the girl. He was sure that this decision had nothing to do with her, how could it? He didn't even know her name. No, he burned that thought and so many others pertaining to the foolish child along with her pathetic letter. This was solely about Maurice and seeing what sort of turmoil he could stir up in the already crumbling kingdom.

Pushing himself away from the stone hearth, The Dark One stood up straight, squared his shoulders and with a snap of his fingers, a few new accents were added to his dress attire.

Firstly, a scarf made up of raven and black phoenix feathers draped over the shoulders of his dragon hide coat. Secondly, a black and golden threaded silk brocade adorning a snowflake broach in the center finished the subtle wardrobe change.

Rumpelstiltskin took a moment to adjust the broach, a reminder of his last deal that hadn't gone so well in his favor, a reminder that he _needed_ this deal to feed the demon starving for chaos. With a lazy flourish, he encased himself in a shroud of crimson smoke and with a sudden draft of wind blowing into the cracks of The Dark Castle, its master had vanished.

**XXX**

Belle was unaware that someone had entered her bedchamber until she felt a firm hand shaking her bare shoulder gently. She responded with a tired groan and attempted to turn her head to the other side to fall back asleep, only realizing that her neck had grown incredibly stiff, slowly bringing her out of her sleep.

"Wake up my girl. The Ogres draw nearer."

The rumbling voice of her father caused Belle's bright, cerulean eyes to pop open, reality settling in where her dreams lingered and in its wake leaving that heavy feeling of dread in her chest. Taking stock of her limbs splayed out underneath her at various awkward angles, Belle had realized that at some point, she had fallen asleep at her window as the sun was now setting in the west.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting when she watched the carrier pigeon fly off into the sunrise... perhaps some sort of twinkle of green or lightning flashing in the distance; something to allude that Rumpelstiltskin had indeed received her letter and was on his way. But it seemed it wasn't so, as was confirmed by her father's prominent features. He was worried, not angry. She had hoped that he would have been angry, had he been angry then that would have meant Rumpelstiltskin _had_ come.

Belle rose from the bay window, ignoring the stiffness she discovered not only in her neck, but arms and lower back as well from having slept in such an awkward position for so long. She refused to show her weakness in the presence of her father, however, and kept her chin held high though she did take a moment to adjust the golden sleeves resting just below her shoulders for some sense of propriety in front of the king.

"You have only but a moment to present yourself respectfully, with the Ogres drawing closer I fear we-"

Maurice was cut short as a slight tremor ran through the castle, causing Belle to teeter with her arms extended at a poor attempt to keep her balance before Maurice put a protective arm around her, keeping the both of them grounded until it passed. Father and daughter shared paled glances at one another as the realization set in. The Ogres had made it to Avonlea.

Throwing propriety to the wind, Belle and Maurice hurried out of Belle's bed chamber and briskly walked the long stone corridors of the castle, Maurice practically dragging Belle behind him with a firm hold on her wrist. Only until they reached the end of the hall did Belle realize where her father was taking her as they descended the spiral stone staircase to the second floor of the castle and did her best to keep up with his long strides as they headed towards the war room.

Belle thought for a fleeting moment to ask her father if she might pop into the library and quickly grab a few of her favorite books, there was no telling how long they would be barricaded inside, but as that had cost her mother's life not so long ago, she refrained and kept her mouth shut on the matter. What she couldn't hold her tongue on, however, was of what she had done; her father had every right to know that she had gone through and summoned Rumpelstiltskin to their aid. It wouldn't exactly be easy to explain if The Dark One had decided to pop in unannounced before she had a chance to talk with him about it.

"Papa..." Belle started, slowing down her gait as her father pushed onwards towards the doors that led to the war room.

"We're nearly there my girl, we'll be safe in the War Room." Maurice said without even so much as halting his step at his daughter's voice.

"Papa, please!" Belle extended her arm and caught her father by the wrist, catching his attention and stopped to face Belle, his opposite hand resting on the brass doorknob that would gain them entry to the War Room with a simple turn of his wrist. As he looked down upon his daughter though, a tightening began to form in his chest as he realized the difficulty Belle was having making eye contact with him. He had known of her mannerisms long enough to know that there was something she wished to say, but refrained in fear of being punished.

"What is it Belle? What has you troubled so?" He asked removing his hand from the door to place on her shoulder in a comforting gesture. Belle in turn kept her cerulean eyes away from her father's as she looked upon his hand on her shoulder and instead brought it up to palm the side of her cheek, seeking comfort from him there for what she was sure would be the last in a very long time. How could he forgive her so quickly for going behind his back and doing the very thing he had deliberately told her was out of the question? But it was better to do it now, while they were alone, than with an audience she was sure was taking refuge in the War Room as well.

Feeling somewhat braver now with her father's warm hand upon her cheek, she took in a deep breath and met his eyes that were so very much like her own, though his didn't hold the sparkling tears welling at the bottom that threatened to spill at any moment as hers did.

"I've done it papa. I've summoned Rumpelstiltskin. I promised him gold, we have more than we need and-" She stated clearly, surprising herself that her tone remained unwavering and firm despite what she was feeling on the inside.

Maurice jerked his hand back from her as if her touch would poison him. His face noticeably paled from the otherwise red complexion and took a few tentative steps backwards, putting distance between them.

"Oh my girl..." Maurice replied, his voice shaky and uncertain, filled with the sorrow that Belle had also felt in her heart at his quick rejection. "What have you done?"

The grand double doors leading into the War Room suddenly burst open. Belle jumped a couple steps backwards in her surprise, grateful that the doors were designed to open into the room rather than out. Standing in the doorway, looking just as startled to see Belle and Maurice as they were to see him, was one of Maurice's guards, adorned in battle armor with a steel sword resting ready on his hip.

"M-m'lord, m'lady..." The guard stooped into a deep bow before gathering himself and cleared his throat loudly. "I was just assigned to go and search for you. We should be receiving news any moment now. Please, come inside."

Without even giving his daughter another look, Maurice nodded to the guard and hurried inside, leaving Belle standing out in the hallway biting at her lower lip in an effort to keep the tears at bay.

"Highness?" The guard asked, seeing the distress on her face but Belle merely swallowed her emotions and followed her father inside the war room, keeping her chin held high.

A small amount of relief washed over Belle as she looked upon the familiar faces of those taking refuge in the war room. With her father and herself now residing inside there were eight of them altogether, each one she knew for as long as she had been a child.

It was hard to be certain from the chainmail and helmets they wore over their heads, but Belle was sure that the two guards stationed by the doors were Seamus and Oliver, guards Belle had come to trust with her life as they had always been there for her when curiosity had gotten the better of the princess and led her down some pretty dangerous paths. Recently, it had been Oliver who had been stationed to watching over Belle as she spent an afternoon in her library. Even in her heels on the highest rung of the ladder, the book had been _just_ out of reach, but that didn't stop her from trying; leaning dangerously further and further until she had finally lost her balance. Had Oliver not been there, she surely would have had more than a sprained ankle to sit on for the next few days.

Seamus too hadn't gone without saving the princess' life. It was Seamus who had been first on the scene just a week ago when an Ogre had made its way inside the castle. Going by her father's word, Seamus had been able to pull Belle away while her mother shielded her daughter from the creature. Belle hadn't seen or been able to talk to Seamus since the endeavor, and as she looked upon him now she was still unsure if she was angry with him or eternally grateful. Part of Belle wondered what would have happened if Seamus had saved her mother first and Belle was left for the Ogre, perhaps things would have turned out differently...

Then there was Nicholas, her father's scribe that acted as a shadow to Maurice, documenting each and every little thing that happened within the king's reach. His tongue had been cut out as a child, a story Belle couldn't quite remember the details of as she had only been told once when she was a small child. She would have tried learning the story again if he hadn't been so short-tempered and ill-mannered each time she tried picking up a conversation with him. She supposed her father only put up with Nicholas because he wrote shorthand faster than anyone in the kingdom had ever seen.

Talking with Nicholas was the royal contractor, Bernie. He was busy showing off the small models of the kingdom laid out on the large map in the center of the room on a circular table, and even from her distance Belle could hear the man whining about the damage the Ogres were doing to the curtain wall he had spent years designing.

Talking with her father in the corner of the room were two men. Currently holding the king's attention was her father's royal adviser Joed. He was a tall, lanky man very well past his expiration date, in Belle's opinion though she'd never say it outright, and although he looked just as old back when Belle was small as he did now, his age refused to show in the way he carried himself, as if he too were king. Maurice signaled Joed with a wave of his hand that their conversation was over, and Joed quietly made his way over to Nicholas and Bernie to look over the war plans laid out on the map.

The second man who had been talking with Maurice stooped closer to the King as he spoke, so as not to be overheard by the others in the room. Belle didn't need to hear what they were saying to know that they were talking about her, Maurice's face read plainly as he spoke in hushed whispers to the priest, Frollo, his eyes continuously glancing over to his daughter with pain written so very clearly in them.

"Belle..." The soft baritone of her fiancé caught her off guard as his strong hand laced his fingers between hers. Pulling Belle from her thoughts, she turned to look at Gaston with a forced, half-smile and used her free hand to pat the top of his hand before pulling both hands away from his gentle hold.

"How-" Belle stopped to clear her throat, feeling it starting to crack already. "How bad is it?" She asked her betrothed, unable to look him in the eye for she was sure that he would see the fear and hurt welling up inside her.

Gaston didn't shy away from her subtle gesture that she didn't want to be touched and put both hands on her bare shoulders, holding them firmly there making his fiancé finally meet his eyes.

"We'll get through this. Somehow." The knight responded somberly, avoiding answering Belle's question altogether but it was what he didn't say that spoke volumes to the princess. Gaston's gaze moved with Belle's as she once again looked upon her father speaking to the priest. Furrowing his brows, Gaston turned back to Belle. "What are they being so secretive about?"

"Me." Belle said indefinitely, keeping her eyes on her father, showing him without words that she was unafraid of the consequences that would follow for summoning Rumpelstiltskin despite him saying no. "My kingdom is suffering. I did what anyone else with the right mind would do in the same situation." Belle looked away from her father at long last and made eye contact with Gaston, the pain and fear in her eyes mysteriously absent and instead replaced with nothing short of an iron will and determination. "I summoned The Dark One to come and help us. He should be here any minute."

"But he _won't_ be coming!" thundered her father's voice from across the room. He may have been talking privately with Frollo towards the back of the room, but the conversation his daughter held with Gaston didn't go unnoticed by him. Maurice excused himself from the priest's side and made his way over to the war map in the center of the room, shooing the others so that he might have room to look upon the map without feeling too crowded.

Belle held in an agitated sigh at her father's expense. As the only lady in the room, it was more important now than ever to act the part of the high princess, to set an example of what it was to be a woman and keep quiet without drawing any attention to herself. It wasn't easy, however. She was practically about to burst as a thousand or so different words begged to be said to her father, but saving her just in time was a small book she noticed clutched tightly in the Royal Adviser's hands. Tilting her head in curiosity, Belle tentatively made her way over to Joed and cleared her throat, gaining his attention.

"Highness?" Joed asked turning to her, a rather bored, blank expression on his wrinkled face. Belle jumped right to the point, unyielding as her eyes snapped straight to the book he held in his possession.

"Is that-?"

"Your mother's diary? Why yes, it is. I was given the task to bring it to you personally, as requested in her Majesty's will. However, it was rather hard to locate the high princess of Avonlea as she had decided to traipse around Arendelle for the better part of a week."

Belle ignored the bitter tone hidden amongst his rather languid words as Joed handed over the book to Belle. She accepted it with high reverence, letting her fingers ghost over the jade-blue felt cover, feeling a new wave of fresh tears stinging at the corner of her eyes.

"Th-thank you..." She whispered quietly, unable to find the right words to say to the Royal Adviser. Joed just grunted lightly in response before excusing himself to go and speak with the king once again. Belle didn't seem to notice however, as she was already opening up the pages and dove straight in to the words her mother had written when she had been alive just a few short days ago.

Lost in the pages of her mother's journal, Belle hardly even noticed the slight bustle in the room as Seamus and Oliver opened the barricaded door allowing a messenger inside. Realizing that he had news of the war battling just a short distance away, Belle closed the book up tight and held it to her chest, her eyes as everyone else's on the messenger as he pulled a small sheet of parchment from his parcel.

"Sir, there's news from the battlefield. Avonlea has fallen." The messenger looked up at the king, grave in the face and stricken with fear as he rolled the parchment back up and placed it back in his satchel.

"Oh, my gods..." Maurice wasn't sure how he was able to keep upright, feeling his knees growing weak at the news.

"If only he had come..." Gaston commented, his voice breaking the silence that had lasted a good while. This seemed to cause Maurice great distress as he barked angrily at Gaston,

"Well he didn't, did he?" Maurice abandoned his place at the head of the table where the map of Avonlea had been laid out and crossed the room. "Ogres. Are. Not. Men!" He felt the need to remind everyone in the room as he sat down in his throne which had been brought to the War Room for this very reason.

"We have to do something, we have to stop them!" Gaston replied, watching keenly as Belle left his side once again, setting her mother's diary down on the table to join her father at his side.

"They are... unstoppable." Maurice said not only to Gaston this time, but to the entire room. The anger he once held in his voice gone, as if he only had the strength to mutter those words spoken of grave experience. Belle wouldn't have it though, and sat down at the floor by her father's feet, taking his hand that rested on the arm of the throne in both her smaller ones.

"He could be on his way right now, Papa." She tried, running her thumb over the rough skin on her father's hand, expecting him to withdraw once again as he had done before, but his words caught Belle completely by surprise, all life seemingly absent in the king as he met his daughter's gaze with a lack of any emotion.

"It's too late, my girl. It's just... too late."

**XXX**

Rumpelstiltskin watched from afar as the sun settled behind the high mountains that surrounded half of Avonlea castle. Whoever's bright idea it was to build the castle so close to the sea was beyond him; with just the right flick of the wrist, he could send the castle and all occupants within it crumbling into the ocean with the slightest of tremors. Perhaps it was best to leave the kingdom to the mercy of the Ogres, he would certainly get a good show out of it.

Perched beneath a dying cherry blossom tree just outside the walls of Avonlea castle, The Dark One made gentle use of his time watching the Ogres rip the king's men into pieces as they tried anything and everything to keep the Ogres from reaching the castle walls. He had arrived only an hour or so ago, but the time had not yet felt right to make himself known to the king, and so he kept his mind busy as he watched with lazy interest the war that was sure to break Avonlea within just a few short hours.

It was cruel, really, to put nobleman Maurice on edge for so long only to swoop into action at the very last second, dealing with the man when he was at his most desperate. Cruel in the eyes of any normal man yes, but to The Dark One, it was nothing more than a game, something to keep his blood pumping, reminding him that he was very much alive.

As the soldier's shouts and cries for help drew closer as what remained of the sun was now hidden by the peaks, Rumpelstiltskin rose from his spot and dusted away the stray strands of grass that stuck to his dark brown leather pants. It was only a matter of time now. Waving his hand in a gentle flourish, The Dark One was encased in a fog of crimson smoke, disappearing from the spot and reappearing within the castle walls. The first thing Rumpelstiltskin noticed was the severe lack of people running about the castle, scared out of their minds without a single idea as to what to do. The corridor was completely empty, with nothing but the sound of his own breathing reverberating off the stone walls.

A heavy frown lined the already deep creases in Rumpelstiltskin's mouth. Had he missed the frenzied panic already? Perhaps the people of Avonlea were a lot better prepared than he had initially hoped. His dark eyes peered down the long corridor, a rather perplexing puzzle now scratching at his brilliant mind. If the Ogres were all out on the battlefield, then why did it look as if one had already barreled through here? Windows were shattered, pieces of wall broken and even a few rafters from the high ceilings had crumbled blocking some areas. Furrowing his brows in confusion, The Dark One began walking down the hall in hopes to find something that could catch his interest; some sort of precious material object he could claim as his price. Surely Maurice had _something_...

It took the better part of an hour, but Rumpelstiltskin had explored a good majority of the castle, finding nothing of personal value (not even in the treasure room) before he finally stumbled upon a room that had otherwise been sealed shut by a form of light magic.

"Fairies." Rumpelstiltskin growled, pushing the dark tendrils of his own magic through the seal and breaking it, allowing for the door to spring open. Stepping inside, Rumpelstiltskin came across a dark coffin sitting atop a table in the center of the room. There was a different feeling in this room than the others, a sense of reverence reaching into his heart replacing the cold, ominous loneliness that the rest of the castle gave off. White roses decorated the top of the casket, robin egg blue drapes aligning the walls and a white silk rug at his feet. Whoever it was that had been sealed inside this coffin was someone who was deeply loved by all, and he dare not breach that seal for a peak for even he had a sense of respect when it came to such things.

Instead, The Dark One's attention was quickly captured by a small pedestal just in front of the coffin. A large glass case enclosed that of a single, simple red rose. Rumpelstiltskin's nostrils flared upon immediate recognition. A simple rose to some, yes, but he knew just exactly what this rose was, and seeing as how it was displayed in the mourning room so delicately, he had a feeling that Maurice did too.

Strange, how did The Enchanted Rose come into the hands of one so pious as Maurice? Rumpelstiltskin reverently removed the glass encasing around the rose and set it gently by his feet. He dared not touch it, for it would surely begin to wilt coming into contact with his inner darkness, however upon closer inspection he found a very faint trace of pink fairy magic warding off time itself on the delicate flower, a preservation spell he could recognize in his sleep.

Rumpelstiltskin placed the glass barrier back around the rose, thinking to himself how wonderful such a rare item would look on display in his Dining Hall back at The Dark Castle. He had no particular need of it, but it was quite pretty and if he knew Maurice well enough, the man would have a hard time parting with something that must have been so special as to be the center decoration for the one who had so recently departed from this world.

A tight knot suddenly formed in his stomach and he felt his heart drop like a stone as he thought, for a flickering moment, the girl who had written him the letter. Had he been too late in coming? Had she perished by the hand of the rogue Ogre that had trampled the halls of the castle? Rumpelstiltskin shut his eyes tightly, willing for the images to go away; forcing himself to believe someone else resided in that coffin. _Anyone_ else.

But why? Why was that so important? He came here for a material item in exchange; The Enchanted Rose, apparently. He had decided long ago that the petty girl would be a terrible thing to claim. Wrinkling up his nose, Rumpelstiltskin turned on his heel and headed out of the room, not even bothering with sealing the door as he had found it previously and made quick haste to the one room he hadn't bothered checking earlier, as he could feel the King's energy residing inside. The War Room.

**XXX**

Everyone's attention was immediately taken from the King and princess as there was a sudden banging on the doors. Expecting no one else, those within began to exchange nervous glances with one another. Belle sat up a bit straighter, her eyes shining with the light that had been absent for the better part of an hour now.

"That's him! That has to be him!" She exclaimed, moving when Maurice stood up and going with him as he headed towards the doors.

"How could he get past the walls?" Maurice asked, feeling his voice shake with the realization that it very well could be The Dark One knocking on the other side of his doors. "Open it!" Maurice waved his hand, snapping Seamus and Oliver to attention as they once again removed the barricade from the door. Gaston, who had placed himself in front of Belle and Maurice, quickly drew his sword. Belle wasn't sure why, it wasn't as if an Ogre would show the courtesy of knocking before they destroyed the castle, nor would a sword fare any better against Rumpelstiltskin if it was him who had knocked. Each and every one in the War Room held their breath as Seamus and Oliver placed their hands on the brass knobs and swung the doors inwards to show in their guest, whether friend of foe.

When nothing happened, Belle tried standing on her tip-toes to see over the shoulder of her fiancé as he was blocking her view of what lay in the corridor, but as Gaston was two heads taller than her, she saw nothing but the confused, vexed faces the others in the room wore as the peered into the hall.

"Well, that was a bit of a letdown!"

Belle jumped at the sudden voice coming from behind her. Turning with the rest of the group, her eyes happened upon the strangest looking man sitting quite comfortably in her father's throne, the model of Avonlea Castle held loosely between his gnarled hands. As soon as the strange man knew that all attention was on him, he let out an unsettling giggle, sending gooseflesh across her skin and forcing the finer hairs on the back of her neck to stand up on end. When no one said anything, the man continued,

"You sent me a message, something about, "Help! Help! We're dying. Can you save us?"'

Belle swallowed a gasp as she realized just who this strange little man sitting in her father's throne was. His tone was child-like, mocking the very letter she had sent him just this morning. The princess couldn't help but to look up at her father, trying to gauge some sort of reaction from him other than stunned as he stared back into the dead eyes of The Dark One. Gaston was the first to bring his wits about him as he pushed forward and pointed the end of his sword at Rumpelstiltskin, daring the Imp to come any closer as Rumpelstiltskin stood up from the throne.

"Well the answer is..." Rumpelstiltskin began, stopping in front of Gaston to swat the blade of his sword down nearly forcing Gaston to lose his grip on his weapon. "Yes, I can." With a casual toss, the model of Avonlea Castle went through the air and landed in the careful hands of Bernie, the Royal Contractor. "Yes, I can protect your little town... for a price." Rumpelstiltskin continued, circling around Bernie like a vulture before moving to stand in front of the group as a whole, silently demanding respect, as if his very presence before them was nothing short of a godsend. Bernie looked about ready to pass out.

"We sent you a promise of gold." Maurice said quickly, remembering his daughter's words.

Rumpelstiltskin in turn bit back an amused laugh, pacing his way slowly over to Maurice and watching with amusement as he and the foolish boy who had pointed a sword at him pushed the girl back behind them in protection. He couldn't help but to notice, however, that the curious girl kept trying to steal peeks at him from behind her barricade of men.

"Ah... now, you see, um... I uh... make gold." He replied to the king, his voice mocking once again as if that bit of information should have been as obvious as the nose on his face. His dead eyes passed the men keeping the woman hidden from sight, connecting with the cerulean eyes that looked back at him with such intensity, Rumpelstiltskin was forced to look away and back to Maurice. "What I want is something a bit more special." He continued on, hearing the light shuffling of feet as the princess and the lanky boy made their way closer, the girl from curiosity and the boy in some noble sense of protecting his king.

His heightened senses picked up almost immediately the scent of the girl, and it took everything within his willpower to not shudder in pleasure or break the face of The Dealmaker. Vanilla, brown sugar, baked peaches and something that was all entirely... _her_. His eyes met with the girl once again as his thoughts were confirmed, she had been the one that had written to him, the very minx that drew him in like a siren with nothing more than a hastily-written letter and her smell. He felt his entire resolve on his previous argument with himself break like a flood-gate, it seemed that he wouldn't be getting The Enchanted Rose after all.

_Well, just...shit._

"My price..." Rumpelstiltskin went on, pulling his attention away from who he now knew as the princess to look back to the king, a flickering smile playing at his lips as he could see the man hanging on his every word. "Is her."

Belle immediately felt her breath catch in her throat as Rumpelstiltskin pointed a gnarled finger straight at her. Eyes wide, all she could do was stand there and look upon The Dark One, doing what she could to keep her jaw clamped shut in favor of looking like a gaping codfish in front of everyone. Her? The Dark One wanted _her_? Belle thought back to the copious amounts of other things she was sure Rumpelstiltskin would have asked for in lieu of gold… but _her_? Heat flooded to the princess' apple-shaped cheeks as various, inappropriate thoughts crossed her mind as to what The Dark One would particularly want of her, a woman, though before she could allude deeper into her thoughts, her father spoke up.

"No." Maurice seemed to have gained back the courage he had lost long ago with the simple word. He didn't care if it was The Dark One he had addressed so callously, no one but the man he had hand-picked-out for Belle had any right to claim her for themselves. Said man instinctively put his arm before Belle in a protective manner, his dark eyes looking down on Rumpelstiltskin with what Belle was sure was a false sense of bravado.

"The young lady is engaged... to me." Gaston told Rumpelstiltskin boldly, though his bravery was cut off short when he and everyone else in the room was reduced to flinching when Rumpelstiltskin in turn laughed at his words.

"I wasn't asking if she was engaged!" He mused, walking at a casual pace past Maurice and closer to the boy and princess, but even as he approached them he walked a bit past, giving them his back for a short moment. "I'm not looking for... love!" Rumpelstiltskin placed both hands over his heart, highly mocking the last word as if it were the most ridiculous thing in the world. Rumpelstiltskin then spun on his heel to face the odd couple in a grand flourish. "I'm looking for a caretaker... for my rather large estate." He went on, spidering the tips of his fingers together as his dead eyes looked back to Maurice with a flicker of a smile. "It's her, or no deal."

"Get out." Maurice said indefinitely, the red color that Belle had been so familiar with returning to his face as he pointed to the door. "LEAVE!"

Belle felt Gaston's protective arm in front of her pull her back as Rumpelstiltskin slowly began to walk past them, adhering to the king's wishes by heading out the door.

"As you wish." He replied with his back to the group. He walked slowly, however, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he could practically feel the turmoil churning within the princess' bosom as she debated on what to do. Before she even knew what it was that she was doing, Belle felt her mouth open and cried out,

"No, wait!"

Feeling her heart hammering harshly against her ribs, it was a wonder she was even able to get out those words to begin with. She roughly shoved Gaston's protective arm from her as he was adamant on keeping it there and watched as Rumpelstiltskin halted, and turned to face her directly. It had been hard to get a good look at the strange man ever since he had arrived. She had either been blocked from view or his back had been to her, but as she stood out in the open, and he open to her, she was able to get in a good look of The Dark One for the first time.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting when it came to the appearance of The Dark One, but this certainly wasn't it. The texts on him were quite vague, as she had come to discover as of late, and she hadn't paused to think of what he might have _looked_ like. The word 'monster' crossed the texts many times, and in her haste to finish her letter she didn't dwell much on the subject but as he stood there before her now, she wasn't sure what she made of him. Perhaps if he had the head of a yak and was covered from head to toe in fur and had horns coming out from his crown would she be able to see where the word 'monster' had come from, but he looked like a man, an ordinary man. Sure his skin had a sickly green tone to it and his hair looked as though it could use a good wash, there wasn't anything about him that _physically_ set him aside from the others in the room. Well, there was the matter of his apparel; and he was much shorter, only a handful of inches taller than herself (a drastic height difference when comparing to Gaston) but he had two arms just as a normal man would; two legs, two ears, two eyes...

Belle felt herself nearly choke on her breath as she took in his eyes finally. Large amber iris' were staring intently back at her, hanging on her word as she had asked him to wait. There was a lack of shine to the color in his eyes, almost transparent... dead. Perhaps it was this that others saw in him that put them on edge, as his eyes were truly different than anything she had ever seen before. And as she grew up with the understanding that eyes were a gateway to the soul, his eyes were now a mystery for her to uncover.

"I will go with him." Belle said at long last taking a few steps closer to Rumpelstiltskin, quelling the uneasy feeling in her gut as Rumpelstiltskin cried out with glee upon her words that was nearly drowned out by Gaston's protest,

"I forbid it, Belle!"

Belle turned hotly to Gaston, her eyes aflame with the burning passion she had been forced to hold in her entire life to the prospect of being a 'lady'.

"No one decides my fate but me! I shall go."

Amused as he was, Rumpelstiltskin interjected his thoughts, the spinner in his mind somehow breaching the cage The Dark One had locked him up inside in wanting to make sure the little minx knew exactly what it was she was getting herself into.

"It's forever, dearie!"

Belle turned to face Rumpelstiltskin once more, The Dark One beating the spinner back into submission in his mind as impossible blue eyes met with his own, the urge to growl in appreciation of the beauty in front of him pushed down to the very far recesses of his mind, somehow managing to keep his eyes on hers rather than the more exposed parts of her body.

"My family, my friends... they will all live?" Belle asked him tentatively.

"You have my word." Rumpelstiltskin replied, dropping the voice of The Dark One for a brief moment as he waved his hand and nodded his head down in some sort of semblance of a bow, his eyes catching the exposed flesh of her neck and chest for the briefest of moments before lifting his head back up to look back at the princess. He wasn't sure if she was nodding in return, or taking a moment to look him over just as he had her, but as he found himself looking at the tops of her lashes he felt a slight tingle roll down his spine which only intensified when her eyes met with his once more.

"Then you have mine. I will go, with you, forever." Belle replied with such a sense of nobility in her voice, it surprised even herself as she stared down The Dark One without a trace of regret.

A look of what Belle was sure was surprise surfaced for the briefest of moments on his face before it vanished completely in his excitement, a shrewd, "Deal!" squeaked from his throat, giggling with the persona of The Dark One once again as he bounced on the balls of his feet like an eager child just gifted a present to be unwrapped.

"Belle... Belle..." The voice of her father pulled Belle's eyes away from her new master with what almost felt like...reluctance? She turned her neck to look back as Maurice tried pleading reason into her. Giving her father a look of pity, she stepped towards him and rested her hands on his chest, smoothing down the fur of his cloak as to give her hands something to do as she was about to listen to what she knew was coming. "You cannot do this! Belle, please! You cannot go with this... beast!"

Rumpelstiltskin placed a hand over his heart, his mouth dropping in a mockery of being hurt as he met eyes with the king, though Maurice didn't find it to be the least bit amusing.

"Father... Gaston..." Belle turned her attention to the man who had been her fiancé up until just a few seconds ago. "It's been decided."

Belle's ears picked up when she heard the footsteps of Rumpelstiltskin behind her, approaching her from behind until she could feel him practically at her back.

"You know," Rumpelstiltskin began, pointing a finger towards Belle, just inches away from touching her. "She's right. The deal is struck." He made a motion with his hand, symbolizing that the dotted line had been signed... so to speak. With the girl so close to him now, he couldn't help but to breathe in her scent once more, taking in everything he could without alluding to what he was doing and passing it off as a quiet, deep breath. Feeling his blood pumping through his veins like a wild high, Rumpelstiltskin quickly brought himself back down to earth as he looked back at the king with a sudden realization. "Oh, congratulations on your little war!"

With a child-like giggle, Rumpelstiltskin placed his hand to the small of the princess' back, turning her away from her father and walked her out of the room, holding her waist tightly in a protective manner as she now completely belonged to him. The little minx would pay for what she had done, for calling on him without any idea of the consequences. Oh yes, she would pay deliciously.

**Author's Note:**

> Oi Vey! This one took me quite a while to crunch out. I hope you guys aren't too disappointed what with the goings on and on and on of the political stuff we already know and relationships and what-not. I just felt it particularly important to include to really establish where exactly we are within the world and story.
> 
> I went with the subtle things we've learned throughout the series, and then I went with a handful of things that I just made up on the spot to fill in the larger chunks we really have no knowledge of. Let me know what you guys think, if it's worth continuing or not.
> 
> A special thanks to my friends Ghost Shadow and GuardianAngelHaruki for proof-reading and helping me out when I got some bad cases of writers block. You guys rock!
> 
> As a side note, if I get enough positive feedback for this fic and continue to write more, not all the chapters will be this long, promise (unless you guys like the length, I don't want to over-bear you).


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